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hn-undercover-9503 · 2 days ago

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uh oh look who got possessed at 4 in the morning and stayed up for another hour exorcising the demons (writing idea)

post-wano zosan/sanzo {platonic or romantic, doesn't matter which way} that spawned from me thinking too hard about the death pact

Most of his crew have already either passed out from the party, or are still recovering inside of the shogun's castle. Last he saw, Franky and Jinbe were the only ones still awake and mingling with the Wano residents. It was almost surreal, this grandiose party, after such a huge battle where there were no less than three times that he was sure they were dead.

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It's well past midnight by now, and yet, the lanterns of the Flower Capital burn just as bright as they did hours before. They light up the night sky, thousands of them drifting into the clouds, high among the stars. Sanji hasn't been able to take his eyes off of them for the last hour. His head is pleasantly foggy, stomach full and body at ease. It's especially nice after the special level of hell all of them went through today. Sitting outside and watching the lights over his head and listening to the sound of a country celebrating the end of its long reign of suffering–it’s comforting, in the kind of way he feels like it's been a while since he felt able to bask in.

But they aren't dead–Sanji and all of his crew are still alive, and victorious.

Some would probably chock up their win to luck, or to random chance. Sanji knows better. He understands that there's one reason, and one reason only, that he's able to sit here on this deck and stare up at the beautiful lanterns containing the dreams and desires of a whole country. And as of right now, that reason is off sawing logs about three rooms away from him.

He could fall asleep out here, he thinks. The weather is perfect, and the noise of the crowd is surprisingly comforting. It's easy for all of it to fade into the background, becoming a soothing hum in the back of his head as his eyes slip closed without him even thinking about it. His body still feels heavy, and honestly, he can use the rest. He may not have been as grievously injured as some of his crew, but he's no stranger to what it feels like to be overworked. Even in this new, strange body, he knows he shouldn't be keeping himself awake after going through what he did.

Unfortunately for him, fate is a cruel mistress.

Just as he feels himself about to drift off completely, there's a dull pain from his side. He sighs, not having the energy to launch an outright attack on whoever's dumb enough to jab him in the ribs when he's sleeping. Instead, he opens one eye and glares up at the figure leaning over him until his tired eyes finally focus.

"Oi," the mosshead grunts, poking him in the side with the scabbard of his newest sword, before seeing Sanji's awake and resting it over his shoulder. "I gotta talk to you, Cook."

Sanji groans, sitting up and rubbing sleep from his eyes. His body cries out its protests, demanding he lay back down and promptly pass out for about thirty eight hours, but he ignores it for now. He sits up and turns a half-hearted glare onto the swordsman as he lowers himself to sit on the deck beside him.

"Shouldn't you be in bed, Marimo?" Sanji grumbles, looking back up at the sky. It's a far less irritating sight than walking fungi keeping him awake. "You look like shit."

Zoro grunts. "Could say the same for you."

"I'm better off than you, shitty swordsman." He quips back immediately, digging into his pocket for his cigarettes purely on instinct. "You didn't have to lug me around a whole castle for several minutes, now, did you?"

"Shut up," Zoro tells him, but there's not an ounce of bite to his tone. He's clearly just as exhausted as Sanji is, probably more. So then...

"What are you here for, Marimo?"

Zoro is quiet for a while–too long, in Sanji's opinion. He looks away from the sky and catches sight of a downturn to the swordsman's lips, his eyebrows pulled together like he's trying really hard to use his singular brain cell to formulate his words. Sanji purses his lips and waits for it.

"During the fight," He begins slowly, slurring his words and drawing out the syllables. "You called me on the snail."

Sanji turns away, looking out over the sprawling crowd still partying on. Okay. That makes sense. He should have known that's what this would be about. He frowns.

"You asked me to kill you, cook." Zoro continues, now glancing at him directly and settling him with a glare that could have knocked out a hundred men. "I want you to tell me what the hell that was all about."

“Why, disappointed you couldn't hold up your end of the deal, Marimo?” He tries to deflect with a smirk right off the bat, but he knows it hasn't worked before he even finishes speaking. Zoro's glare hardens, and Sanji just sighs.

“It's not something I really wanna talk about.” He admits, pulling out his lighter and lighting himself a cigarette. “And it worked out, so you don't need to worry about it. Really.”

Zoro is clearly unconvinced by his assurance. “It's got something to do with you running off to marry that girl, doesn't it?”

“Not…exactly.” He clarifies, which he knows explains nothing. Zoro huffs out an agitated breath.

“If you don't tell me, I'll hafta cut you for it.”

Sanji chuckles. “You and I both know you're in no shape for a brawl right now, Marimo. So heel.”

Zoro rolls his eye at him. “Just–tell me.”

“Why do you wanna know so bad, huh?”

Zoro crosses his arms with a scoff. “You asked me to kill you, dumbass. And you expect me to just shrug it off?”

“Wow, who knew moss could think? So you're sentient after all, huh, Marimo?”

Zoro growls and digs an elbow into his side. It's clear by the pained hiss he lets out afterwards that the action hurt him more than it did Sanji.

He winces and runs at it anyway, if only so he doesn't do it again. After taking a particularly long drag from his cigarette, he breathes out a cloud of smoke and leans back on the deck, face turned up to the sky again. “Fine. But if you really want the whole story, you're gonna be here a while.”

Zoro grunts again and then he's setting his swords aside to lay back next to him, also looking up at the sky. “Just tell me, stupid cook.”

He sighs again, more smoke escaping from his lips. It fades away against the backdrop of night sky, stars, and lanterns. “You got the story of my family from Luffy, I assume?”

“Bits and pieces–I know they weren't your family family.”

Sanji smiles, because of course Luffy would describe it like that. “Yeah. Well, turns out I made a mistake. Using that bastard's weapon, his raid suit–it…did something to me.”

Zoro shifts from beside him, and when he glances over he's sitting up on his elbow to look down at him. “The hell does that mean?”

“My siblings were all born superhuman. Reinforced bodies, crazy fast healing, the works. I wasn't like them. I was just a regular old human.”

Zoro frowns at him. “That a bad thing?”

“In the eyes of the bastard, it was unforgivable.” Sanji shrugs, taking another drag just for the sake of it. “But I preferred it that way–once I got older, at least. My mom died to make sure I got to stay human. I owe everything to what she gave me.” His eyes burn as he prepares his next words, and they stick to his throat when he speaks again. “But because I was a selfish idiot…I wasted her gift.”

“What the fuck are you talking about, swirly?”

Sanji takes a deep breath and another drag, letting the smoke fill his lungs completely and settle his racing heart. “The raid suit. When I wore the suit, it must've triggered something. When I was fighting Queen, my body felt strange. It'd been happening for days, but I didn't think anything of it before. And then Queen got me trapped and I should've been dead, but I wasn't. I could feel my bones shattering, my organs rupturing–but when he let me go, I was fine. Like nothing even happened.”

“So you got strong bones and super healing. Who gives a shit?”

“...those aren't the only traits my siblings share.” Sanji pinches the end of his cigarette between his thumb and forefinger. “They don't experience emotion. At all. It's why they make the perfect war machines. Can't feel bad about destroying a country if you can't feel anything.”

Zoro stays quiet for a while again, and this time is even more nerve-wracking than the last. Anxious, Sanji forces himself to sit up on his elbow and look over to him. His face is impassive, unreadable. Sanji's heart rate speeds up again.

Finally, Zoro grunts yet again. “You're stupid, cook.”

“Wha–” Sanji sputters for a second before the words catch up to him. “Oh, fuck you! I give you my whole story and you're insulting me?” He throws himself back into the deck with a huff. “I don't know why I even bother–”

“You feel too much to never feel anything, idiot.”

Sanji blinks, turning his head again to look at him. He's sitting up now, hunched over and glaring at him. There's no heat behind his steely gaze, though.

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” This time, Zoro jabs a thumb into his side and Sanji lets out an undignified yelp, pushing out of his reach before he can get any more bright ideas. “Your dumb bleeding heart is too damn big to feel nothing. And you're stupid for thinking it could ever come close.”

Sanji scowls at him. “You don't understand. There was a moment there when I lost control. I thought I–”

“You thought? Thought what, shit cook?” The swordsman barks out a laugh. “Thought you did something terrible and evil, huh? Something that would make you wanna die to my swords?”

“I thought I hit a woman.”

Zoro stares at him for a second before bursting out laughing. “Well? Didja?”

Sanji grits his teeth and reaches out a leg to land a kick to his side, even as his body screams more protests. “Of course not, asshole! I would never–”

“Then shut up about it, would ya?” Zoro yawns, shoving his leg away haphazardly and laying back on the deck with his arms folded behind his head. “That when you called me?”

He frowns, turning back to look at the sky again. “Around there.”

Zoro lets out a deep breath, eye slipping closed. “Looks like I was worried for nothing.”

“Maybe you were.” Sanji admits quietly, watching as the lanterns bob and sway on the sudden breeze. “...hey,”

Zoro grunts instead of replying with words, because he's a caveman at heart.

“I know you think it's stupid…but if it did happen. You'll still keep up your end, won't you?”

The swordsman is silent for so long that Sanji's sure he's gone to sleep. But when he turns around to look at him, the other is staring right at him. For some reason, the look in his singular eye raises the hairs on the back of his neck.

“Course I will.” He eventually says, laying his head back. “But it won't. So shut up and go to sleep.”

Sanji smiles, laying back onto the deck once again. He shuts his eyes, and the pleasant hum of festivities sets over him once more. “That was the plan, at least until a certain mossball decided to interrupt me.”

“I don't need a fucking deal to kill you, shit cook.”

“I'd like to see you try, Marimo.”

#zosan #sanzo #black leg sanji #sanji #one piece sanji #roronoa zoro #zoro #one piece zoro #one piece #wano arc #wano spoilers #one piece wano #one piece spoilers

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